Archive-name: SpecMome/meryxmas.txt

Archive-author: 

Archive-title: Merry Christmas, Baby





"Thank you for the birthday presents. They were wonderful. And it was 

fun." With that, Amy closed her eyes and leaned to me. Our lips met, 

tongues touching for the briefest of moments. I leaned forward, trying 

to prolong the contact as she pulled back slowly. Amy gave me another 

gentle kiss, leaving just a hint of her wonderful flavor on the tip of 

my tongue. "Good night. See you soon.", she said, climbing into her 

car. She left me standing with a false smile on my face, and forbidden 

thoughts struggling to reach my consciousness. Friends? No, more. 

Lovers? No, considerably less, my hopes and efforts notwithstanding.



   I had just held a private (just the two of us) birthday celebration 

for her. We had watched, through the magic of video tape, "How the 

Grinch Stole Christmas" (her favorite). I had hidden several small 

gifts through my place and sent her on a treasure hunt, complete with 

obscure, but decipherable clues. We talked a lot as we always seem to. 

Communication is rarely a problem between us. The events of the fairly 

recent past that had threatened our relationship seemed all but 

forgotten.



   Due to a strange set of circumstances, we had slept together in my 

bed for a week as just friends about a month before her birthday. We 

spent more time in each other's company than ever before, essentially 

living together. Her roommate hadn't paid their electric bill, and 

their all-electric warehouse loft got mighty cold and dark as fall had 

turned nasty one weekend. She had stayed over in order to give me a 

ride to the airport at six the next morning, and I had left her the 

keys. This also happened to be the night before her electricity got 

turned off. Of course, when she found out that her place was cold and 

dark, she returned to mine while I was away.



   She picked me up from the airport when I returned, and apologized 

for staying while I was away. No big deal. After I had finished 

telling her about my trip, and cleaning up, I asked her out to dinner, 

since I didn't want to cook and I hate eating out alone. The trouble 

began during dinner when she began to talk about her week. "I don't 

know if I should tell you this..." I waited patiently. Amy does that a 

lot. Translation: I'm going to tell you about this man I went out 

with, because you're my _friend_. Then she paused, lowering her eyes. 

"You know, there's this guy I met a couple weeks ago...", and she 

stopped.



   I waited for her to finish establishing the line between us. Early 

on in our friendship, we had crossed that line on a couple of 

occasions, much to her current anxiety. Subsequent discussions 

revealed that while she had no regrets ("I was feeling very close to 

you..."), she worried about my current interpretations and plans. "OK, 

I met James a couple of weeks ago, and we went out. I had fun, he was 

pretty cool, and so I went out with him again..." Amy gingerly dragged 

out the last word, watching me for a sign of despair. I stayed calm. 

"Well, the next time we went out, that second time, he gave me this." 

She pulled at the heart-shaped cameo pendant attached to a gold chain 

that she was wearing. It had diamonds around the perimeter. "They're 

real. I checked.", she said, causing my eyes to bulge and my heart to 

sink slowly.



   Amy quickly resumed her story to prevent me from committing suicide 

with a steak knife. She explained how flattered she had been, but how 

she had tried to explain to the guy that it was only two dates, and 

she wasn't thinking about any long-term commitments. I listened, 

externally impassive, heart somewhere around my knees. I heard what 

she was saying, however, which was the cause of my discomfort. 

Translation: "See, you're not the only guy who's nice to me and does 

stuff for me and finds me attractive." Fine, it's nothing new. 

Unfortunately, later that evening Amy dropped the bomb. "Can I stay 

here until I have heat and light in my place? It's so nice and warm 

here. I trust you." It was definitely going to be an uncomfortable 

night. I only have one bed; big enough for two, but she trusted me to 

sleep with her and keep my body to myself. I should have said no, but 

one look into those gorgeous bright blue eyes stunned my common sense 

into silence.



   The night turned into seven, but true to our friendship, I never 

crossed the line once. I did wake up in compromising positions on a 

couple of occasions, however. While Amy may have been safe from my 

conscious actions, my unfettered subconscious left me vulnerable. Amy 

had rolled over one night, and I immediately woke up. Seems she had 

rolled on top of something. I spent a good while trying to extricate 

myself without waking her, and slept the rest of the week with my back 

to her.



   She moved out, because her roommate finally paid the bill. She 

thanked me with a gentle kiss, and promised that she would go to a 

party I had been invited to while she was staying at my place. She 

kept her promise, but halfway through the night she said "Evil." For 

no apparent reason. I asked her what she meant, but she said she 

didn't want to elaborate. Translation: "You're bugging me, and I wish 

you weren't here." The tension built, and as we left, she finally 

brought up the subject. "I have to say something. I'm beginning to 

feel obligated and I don't like that. I know what's on your mind, and 

it really hampered my evening."



   "Well I'm _sorry_,", I replied, voice dripping with not-quite-yet-

malice, "but you look very attractive tonight. I've been in close 

contact with you for a long time, and I think I have every right to 

want you. Obviously you meet lots of men that want you, like James. Do 

you feel -- _obligated_ -- to them?", I asked innocently. My question 

may have been posed with innocence, but Amy understood the sentiment 

behind it, and took offense. We argued in the car, my false apologies 

ringing against her fallacious arguments. I slept on the floor that 

night, because she was too drunk to drive home. For the first time all 

night I got her to do something that I wanted her to. She crawled into 

my bed, mumbled, "Aren't you going to bed?", and fell asleep.



   Anyway, we didn't see each other for a few weeks after that, but 

she would still call me and we would talk in generalities, avoiding 

the issue between us. As the days went on, it became less and less of 

an issue. Her birthday approached, and we talked briefly about it. Amy 

mentioned that she didn't know what she was going to do for it, since 

it wasn't on a weekend, and everybody she knew seemed busy. I heard 

the tinge of depression in her voice; and being the close friend that 

I was, resolved to do something about it. I came up with the treasure 

hunt idea, and invited her over. Which brings me to the present.



   I needed another early morning ride, to the train station this time 

for my Christmas trip to visit family. Taxi service is expensive, and 

not necessarily reliable at that time of the day. All of my friends 

had to work that day, because it was Monday. All of them except Amy. 

She actually asked how I was going to get to the station, then 

cheerfully volunteered. "I can spend the night, and take you down 

there. I'll even watch your apartment while you're gone, because I 

still have the spare keys. That way, you don't need to go through the 

hassle of getting a cab that early." I accepted her generous offer 

(anybody willing to get up at five for that reason is generous), and 

waited impatiently for the departure day.



   She called me the Saturday before I was to leave. "Ummm, I'm not 

eager about getting up that early on Monday.", she said, abruptly 

bringing business into the discussion. I groaned inwardly. Looks like 

I'll be getting up and calling a cab at four in the morning. "What 

say...", Amy started over the phone, "What say we just go out and stay 

up. We can start the night at the club across the street from you and 

go from there?" That made a lot of sense, actually, because Amy was a 

night person in the truest sense of the word. I could sleep on the 

train, and she would just go to bed a little later than usual for her. 

I agreed.



   Sunday evening rolled around. I was all packed and ready to go, but 

I hadn't heard from Amy all day. Her roommate said that she hadn't 

been home since early that morning, and I wondered if she had spaced 

out our most recent plan. The phone rang at nine-thirty. "Hi. I'm 

sorry, but I've been running around all day, and I'm late as usual.", 

Amy explained, slightly out-of-breath. "Why don't I meet you at the 

club and we can wing it from there after they close at midnight. OK?" 

Relieved at hearing her voice, I was happy to accommodate her. I went 

over to the small basement jazz club where the Sunday night session 

was in full swing. The patrons, however, weren't. There were many 

empty tables, so I got one and settled in with a drink. When the band 

took a break at quarter after ten, I wasn't worried. However, they 

started a half-hour later, and Amy still was nowhere to be found. Her 

phone was busy, so I couldn't get in touch with her. At eleven, the 

waitress came over and said that they had a phone call for me. "I'm 

sorry. I got tied up and my plans have changed, but I'll meet you at 

your place. I'm on my way over now." I wondered if I should just go 

home and go to bed so I could call the cab at four in the morning. 

Surprises were the last thing I needed.



   I tried calling Amy back to tell her to forget it, but the line was 

busy again, so I went home. I opened my door, and saw Amy sitting 

calmly at my table. I certainly hadn't expected her to be at my place 

already. She looked at me with amusement. "How -- how did you get here 

so fast?", I stuttered in shock.



   She stood up. "Oh, I called from this phone. I was already here."



   "Why didn't you come over? I was waiting for you.", I pressed, 

still in shock.



   Amy sauntered over to me lazily, smiling. She put her arms on my 

shoulders. I realized just then that she was made up, but not dressed 

up. Amy has red hair and freckles, and is attractive. She isn't 

gorgeous or anything, but when she dresses up and really spends time 

putting on her face, she can be very beautiful. Her full body isn't 

displeasing, and she's very soft. Amy giggled. "I haven't given you 

your Christmas kiss yet." She leaned forward and closed her eyes. Our 

lips met again, but her tongue pushed into my mouth and she opened 

hers fully. I responded. "Merry...", Amy said before pulling me closer 

and kissing me harder. "Christmas...", she said, a little bit out-of-

breath, pulling her head back. Her hands still rested gently around my 

neck  Her eyes closed again, and we grabbed each other tightly this 

time. There was much more than a hint of her taste in my mouth and a 

pressure beginning to build. I looked at her eyes and they were half-

open. Amy had her bedroom eyes on.



   "Amy?", I asked, voice almost a whisper. "Why?"



   She pulled away and sat down. "It's a unique gift, and it shows how 

much I care about you. And it's something you really, really want." 

The smoky look in the eyes disappeared, replaced by bright blue 

intensity. "You know my situation, and how I feel. You can't _have_ 

me, no man can. But would you like to share me for Christmas? Be 

honest with me -- _and yourself_." Her eyelids drooped again 



   "You know the answer, or else you wouldn't have gone through the 

trouble of setting this up."



   "I just wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine." Amy 

smiled, and held out her hand. I kissed it, and she let me lead her to 

the bedroom. We were joined at the mouth as soon as we sat down on the 

bed. "Let me undress you first.", Amy panted. She pulled my clothes 

off quickly, yet carefully. I was naked before her and we kissed some 

more. She fondled me gently as I savored her mouth and tongue. "Do you 

want to undress me, or should I undress for you?" It took me a while 

to remove her sweater and pants, because I couldn't get enough of her 

kisses.



   When I undid her bra, Amy pulled my head to her chest. She stroked 

my hair while I used my tongue to stroke her breasts. "Ohhh, forrr-

playyyy...", she sighed. We were kneeling on the bed facing each 

other, and my hands roamed along her torso, brushing her warm, soft, 

skin as they traveled. Amy's breathing became deeper. I started to lie 

down on my side while she was still kneeling, one hand sliding across 

her chest, my mouth still active at her navel. Amy sat and pulled off 

her panties. "You like the way I taste, don't you?", she purred 

suggestively.



   If there was one thing I could put Amy on the ceiling with, it was 

oral sex. She had said she didn't really get off on it our first time 

together. Her body had shown her to be a liar. My tongue gently 

started between her legs, and I just touched her with the tip. The 

circles I described grew smaller, then larger, and I increased the 

pressure. Amy's hips were moving in response to my efforts, and I 

tasted her inner sweetness before I tickled her clitoris. A whimpering 

grunt (?) told me that I was close. Slowly I pushed my fingers into 

Amy, who tugged at them from inside. "Yess... Oh, yesss...", she 

sighed, because she knew what was coming.



   Amy. She grunted as I batted at her G-spot, tapping, rubbing, 

grinding my fingers within. My tongue and head fought to stay at her 

clit. Amy's body jerked and wrenched around on the bed, and her liquid 

euphoria coated my hands and lips. She grabbed at my head and hair. I 

had told Amy on many occasions how wonderful her whole body tasted, 

and I was being given as much of that particular treat as I could 

handle. And it's much softer than a fruitcake. She cooed and sighed as 

she descended from orgasm's peak. Amy sat up and put my fingers in her 

mouth, sucking her juices from them, bedroom eyes on fire. She stuck 

my fingers back in my mouth and we kissed around them.



   Her hands stroked my chest. She ran them up and down the front of 

my body touching to stimulate, to tease. A gentle push and I sat in 

front of her, legs spread. Amy's red hair swirled in my lap. My eyes 

fluttered and a chill roared down my spine. She regarded me 

devilishly. Her oral ministrations didn't last very long, and I was 

disappointed. Not for long. "Move back to the top of the bed.", she 

whispered. Amy knelt over my lap when I got there, and kissed me as we 

started to grind at each other. Our arms wrapped around each other, we 

could only move back and forth. There was never much separation 

between our bodies. We breathed in gulps and gasps, noises in our 

throats. The eyes communicated mutual desire and pleasure, the lips 

and tongues adding to the closeness.



   My movement became uncontrolled, quiet grunts stilled by Amy's 

mouth and driving tongue. She languidly continued her easy thrusts and 

we stroked each other's bodies. For once there was silence between us. 

We both slid onto the bed, temporarily exhausted. Kissing took up some 

time, then Amy said, "That was Merry."



   "Merry what?", I whispered, kissing her on the forehead.



   "You still haven't gotten to Christmas yet," Amy replied, throaty 

voice joining the still-smoldering bedroom eyes. "You can't go to 

sleep now. I promised you we'd stay up all night..." She drove her 

mouth against mine, and our tongues dueled passionately. "And then 

there's Baby. You know, Merry Christmas, Baby? B.B. King?" she asked 

after a pause to catch her breath. I nodded, blues being one of the 

great things we had in common. Amy sighed. "By then, we'll just make 

it to your train in time, or I'll have to drive you to Chicago." She 

turned the light out and pounced on me.

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